Fallen [Malum+Mashton/Cake] ✔️

~17~

Chapter Seventeen: Are We Going To Leave Now?

Despite Ashton pleading for him not to, Michael had made his way to Calum's home. He knocked on the front door, sucking a deep breath in as he constantly reminded himself why he was there.

Luke had been a pure soul, someone everyone adored. He had been jovial and kind, never spoken a foul word of Michael in his life, and he didn't deserve to be left alone when he seemed to be in the need of someone's kindness.

He knew Calum was a cruel man, so if he could help Luke escape that terror in any way then by god he would try; no matter the consequences. Luke deserved it.

He went to knock again before spotting the doorbell and pressing the plastic button instead. A gentle jingle rang through the house, and after a moment passed the door was hesitantly opened.

Michael stared in confusion at the blond hiding behind the door, peeking only his head out to see who was standing on the porch.
He then frowned, the first thing he saw that stood out on Luke being the man's faint purplish bruising that littered across the soft skin of his neck.

When Luke realised what Michael was staring at in concern he shamefully looked away and spoke with a dreary mumble.
"Did you wanna come in?"

Michael hesitated, worried for the man he'd never properly met before. "Aren't you going to ask who I am first?"

Luke shrugged, "You're Calum's friend. I've seen you before."

"You're missing... apparently." Michael blurted, absolutely perplexed.

Luke's voice was quiet, waiting for Michael to enter. "I was hiding..."

"And Calum didn't find you?" Michael didn't step inside yet.

"No..." Luke whispered, shaking his head and refusing to look at Michael for longer than a few seconds. "I hid in the back shed, he never looks outside."

"Is he here now?"

"No. I'm safe." Luke insisted, and Michael hated that choice of wording.

Michael walked inside, waiting for Luke to shut the door behind him before following the tall, slender blonde through the house and into the kitchen.

"You can't stay long." Luke said. "I don't know how long he'll be gone for."

"Why did you hide?" Michael curiously asked, following the tall but frail blond to the kitchen.
He frowned at the boy's body, fragile and weak. He had never been like that before.

"I wanted to have a moment to myself." Luke explained. "Before I left everything behind."

"When was the last time you actually ate something?" Michael shot another question his way.

Luke hesitated. "I had breakfast." He turned and looked at Michael as he stood by the kitchen counter. "Thank you for distracting him, it let me eat."

"He doesn't let you eat?" Michael felt his stomach churn with disgust.

"Not very much. He says I don't need to get fat, but I know I'm not fat." Luke grabbed his own wrist, as though affirming his own words to himself. "I know I'm not."

"No, you're not." Michael insisted, worried for the blond.
He watched the man place a whistler kettle atop the stove, lighting the fire and boiling the water before grabbing two plain black cups and setting them on the sink counter.

"Coffee or tea?" Luke quietly asked.

"Coffee would be fine, thanks." Michael politely replied.

Luke spooned two average coffees into the cups. "Sugar and milk?"